Captives' Excuses
by preposterousnotion
Summary: "I'm very sorry but I think I'd very much like to have sexual intercourse with you." 10/Rose 3 part short story.
1. Chapter 1

Captives' Excuses

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from BBC's Doctor Who.**

**AN: Just a short 10/Rose story, it's going to probably be 3 parts. Haven't written anything in a while, so I hope it's okay.**

**Ruby.**

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><p>Part 1: Waking Up<p>

He wakes up first, of course he does, he' a Time Lord, he has the 'superior biology' or whatever slogan is on his egotistical manifesto he's flashing around these days.

It's still taken a fair time for his body to metabolise the sedative efficiently, to clear its effects on his biological pathways, and he still feels a little groggy as he comes to, taking in the surroundings as he does.

As it happens though, he doesn't really get the chance to take in his surroundings, since the first thing he notices is the fact that he is tied up with Rose.

Well, okay, to be pedantically accurate, his wrists are tied together, which are behind Rose's back, and Rose's wrists are also tied together, which are behind his back, and they are face to face.

The proximity is strangely disconcerting, and he wonders briefly how they are being kept in such a position, upright, and somewhere in his brain he works out that there is a sort of force-field around them, but most of his brain is focused on the shallow rise and fall of Rose's chest, and the thrum of her heartbeat against his.

It's just like a hug, he tells himself.

They hug all the time really. That's what best friends do though, isn't it? There's the 'oh-goody-new-marmalade-for-breakfast' hug, more often than not a 'thank-you- for-such-great-tea' hug, and sometimes even a 'hug-in-celebration-of-the-team-work-in-washing-up' hug, and okay, maybe these all occur before 11am, but it was still an understandable amount of hugging.

He couldn't fathom why anyone would not want to hug Rose Tyler as much as possible, even if it did give a burn of jealousy at just thinking that anyone else would dare hold his Rose in such a way.

There's that glorious sensation of intimacy, her addictive warmth enveloping him, her scent overwhelming him, and her soft skin so touchably close underneath his fingertips.

She's unconscious now, as unaware as he is of his tied hands rubbing soothingly on her back, of his nuzzling closer into the crook of her neck, seeking comfort only she can give him.

(These natives are friendly, he said, but that still led to them being tied up and awaiting ominous trial).

He thinks hugs should last longer, now, as he lets his eyes close, having ascertained the lack of immediate danger, and simply enjoys Rose.

He thinks he should tell her again how brilliant she is, when she wakes up. He should tell her all the time, because she really is.

It's then she moves, just slightly, snuggling just that bit closer to him, hips nudging his.

He stills, and holds his breath, and she's really rather close to him now, and he really rather likes it.

It takes a few moments for him to realise that the force field has closed in on them, and he's still frowning with the thought when Rose murmurs.

"_Doctor."_

Oh. _Oh._ He almost gasps at the rush of heat that surges through him at the slight breathiness of her tone, at the positively needy way she pronounces his name.

It would be so easy to indulge that curiosity, press his forehead to hers, but there's a tortuous balance between how terrified he is of his body's current reactions, and how terrified he is of what he will feel if he knows what she is thinking about.

He's read enough books on humans to know that what he is feeling right now is close as damn to _want_.

(He's really not sure on the extent of such feelings, beyond what dry knowledge he has from his reading. He's really not sure how in all of Time and Space that Rose can somehow make him feel these things, but she can, and she has been doing so ever since he met her, and his copy of 'Understanding Humans: Volume 947', is looking rather well worn these days).

"Oh Rose," he whispers, biting his lip. "You should really wake up now…"

She doesn't, she stays stubbornly asleep, and his breathing is laboured, despite his respiratory bypass system, as he concentrates all his effort on diverting his flow of blood away from a certain appendage.

He fails all at once, when she speaks again, more urgently this time, the tone even more seductive.

"Oh yes. _Doctor_."

And oh god she feels so good pressed against him, he finds himself pushing gently with his hips, only to curse out loud at how the forcefield closes back around him, and he's so deliciously ground against her, and yet so inappropriately responding rapidly to such contact.

(He's got all the parts, barely used. He's sure that they'll work just as well in conjunction with Rose's parts, as they do on their own, and that thought alone is enough for them to work on their own).

He tries to think of anything else, everything else, but every thought in his repertoire has been replaced with thoughts of Rose and _oh Rose_.

He wets his dry lips with his tongue, and he has a sudden urge to taste Rose, a sudden chastising himself that why oh why hasn't he tasted Rose before? He just has to lick everything else.

The thoughts of tasting Rose, of his wet tongue running over her creamy silken skin do nothing to help his little problem. Or rather, his rapidly growing problem.

He's never felt quite so hot.

She stirs, and he groans out loud.

She's awake.

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><p>Please review :)<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Captives' Excuses

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from the BBC's Doctor Who.**

**AN: Thank you so much for the support for the first part, and so without further ado, here be part 2 :P**

**Ruby.**

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><p>Part 2: Not Alone<p>

Rose awakes second, she guesses, since the Doctor has probably already cleared whatever that green stuff they were injected with was from his body.

(He tells her it's his superior biology, or something, and he never notices her jaw slacken slightly and her breath catch as she rapidly extrapolates this confidence in his bodily functions).

Her heart beat is ever so fast, for just having been asleep, and in a rush she remembers the gist of her dreaming, and a flush spreads quicker than consciousness does to her extremities.

Is she awake? There's a dull ache between her legs, but that's fairly normal to find herself with, what with living with her best friend who she is totally in love with and being constantly sexually frustrated.

It's more the fact that the Doctor, or at least, the dream Doctor, seems to be pressed up against her, aroused and warmer than she's ever felt him in real life.

"Rose are you awake? OhgodI'm so sorry," he rushes out, when her eyes flick to his, her confusion written all over her face.

Maybe it's just his sonic screwdriver, she thinks to herself, and squirms a little to ascertain this.

"_Rose_," he moans hotly.

His head drops forward, into her neck, and if she didn't know better she'd think… is he smelling her?

Well, he was smelling her, until he stuck his tongue out and licked a line over her humming skin.

There's a long pause, and she wishes she could move her legs, wishes they weren't one either side of the Doctor's, because her body's twitching with the effort not to roll her hips against him, seeking more friction.

"You like this," he says, bluntly, "You're aroused."

"You could have just asked if you wanted to know," Rose snaps, grumpily. Because in a minute, they are going to escape, are going to run back to the TARDIS and she's just going to have to take another long cold shower.

"What was in that green stuff then? Why isn't it working on me?"

Her reaction to this... situation is completely understandable, though he'd probably never understand.

He looks puzzled for a second.

"Oh… no. No, no Rose."

"No what?"

"No this… this reaction isn't the result of any potion or something… and I'm very sorry but I think I'd very much like to have sexual intercourse with you."

He says it likes he's commenting on the weather.

"_What_?"

"Sex," he says, as though it's obvious what he means, and surely she can't not know what that means? She's got to know better than him anyway, turns out human literature on the stuff makes it out to be so much more clinical than this storm of sensations and heat.

And they have still got all their clothes on, and he's pretty sure they need to take at least some of their clothes off for it to work properly.

"I want to have sex with you."

She manages a barely audible, "Oh."

There's another pause.

"Now's probably not the best time," she stutters.

"Quite," he agrees, "I would need to be able to touch you," he continues, in a matter of fact tone, "because I probably wouldn't be able to drive you to climax with mere penile penetration. Plus, we are wearing too many clothes."

"Oh," she squeaks, a there's rush of want and need and heat.

He considers this.

"What do you think? Do you think you would like that?"

His voice has dropped an octave, and it's vibrating over her sensitive skin, and she chokes on a gasp and nods furiously.

"You're brilliant Rose," he whispers, mouth hovering over her ear. "My brilliant Rose."

"When… when can we have sex?"

"Well, all the time, if you want to, or at least, in between saving the world and you being asleep…"

She actually meant how long did he mean until they could have sex for the first time, but apparently he was well beyond just the one off shag, and was obviously enjoying thinking about this in the longer term already.

She closes her eyes and tries to take deep breathes, tries to calm herself, because if any native aliens happen to walk in at any moment, she's not sure she'll be able to think rationally enough to try and negotiate their release.

(Well, she's sure, with a horny Time Lord pressed against her as he is so intimately, and her being perpetually frustrated, their _release_ release would be fairly easy to negotiate. But there is still the issue of them being tied up, and not in a kinky sexy way either, though…)

His lips brush hers, but he pulls away rather suddenly when she moans at the contact.

"Oh I like that," he says, smugly.

"Don't stop," she orders him, fiercely, "If you will keep talking about sex the least you can do is kiss me."

He's addicted now though, wouldn't be able to stop even if she asked him to. The mere brush of lips was enough to trigger memories of the taste of her mouth that he's usually trying to forget, because such memories have him so easily distracted.

He nudges her chin up with his nose, lightly pecking her own nose before wantonly crushing her lips with his, and Rose is overwhelmed by the notion that he's done this before, and she feels determined to make the most of it this time, when she is in her body and not Cassandra.

Her mouth opens to his, eagerly, his lips so soft and pliant against hers.

His tongue tentatively runs over her top lip, tasting her, she thinks, and he seems pleased with his findings, as there's a rumbling sound of pleasure deep in his throat, which somehow envelops her as her tongue curls to meet his.

Kissing the Doctor is so much better than she has ever imagined, and yes, she imagines it, she imagines his gentle dominance and the softness of his cool lips.

She could never imagine just quite how all-consuming it is to feel her passion reciprocated so freely, so desperately, and they really should have been doing this a long time ago, well, they really should have been doing this all the time.

(Why haven't they, again?)

Ever since he changed into this incarnation, this one that is now kissing her with fervent deep long kisses, his tongue twisting with hers.

Ever since he changed into this version of himself that was specifically made for her.

She's thankful to whatever alien force is holding them upright, because her legs are weak and she's a molten mess of desire completely at his mercy.

She has to turn her head to breathe, because he seems to have forgotten her lack of a respiratory bypass system, and she steals rasping breaths, and she freezes as her heavy lidded eyes register the fact that they are no longer alone.

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><p>Please review :)<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Captives' Excuses

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from the BBC's Doctor Who.**

**AN: So this is the third part. I found it hard to decide when to end this, and I'm still not sure if I want to end it here or not, but I thought I'd better publish this anyway, seeing as I've been staring at it for a few days now!**

**Thanks for the reviews , they are very much appreciated :)**

**Ruby.**

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><p><strong>Part 3<strong>

"So I have a plan," the Doctor says lowly, his voice thick and unsteady.

Rose can only make an attempt at a sound of interest.

It comes out as more of a grunt.

"Do you think you can, erm, slide down me… and, er… get my sonic screwdriver out of my pocket with your teeth?"

Rose's eyes snap open. "It's your _sonic screwdriver_?" Yet, when she rubs her thigh against him a little, he gasps and rolls her name on his tongue.

"Nope…nuh… _Rose_…It's in my pocket," he manages, through gritted teeth, "Left pocket."

Rose considers the forcefield pushing against her in one direction, and the Doctor's humming, wanting body in the other.

"The forcefield doesn't react below your knees," he continues, "try leaning all you weight on me and… er, easing down onto your knees..."

He breaks off and mutters harshly something about Jack Harkness in a bikini, or at least that's what Rose thinks he's muttering about.

"I hardly think it's going to help matters," Rose stage-whispers back, "If I rub my body down against you."

"Have you got any better ideas?"

"Most of my ideas at the moment are involving both of us naked in the TARDIS," Rose hisses, and there's a flash of dark longing in his eyes.

For a second Rose pauses, because he's the last of the Time Lords, and although he may have power over all of Time and Space, she has power over him. She thinks she should probably be scared of that, but with his gaze of absolute adoration shining through lust, she knows she isn't.

"Well let's just try my idea first… and then… then how about we try some of your plans," he suggests, weakly.

"That… that works," Rose whispers hoarsely.

He nods, and bites his bottom lip, hard, when she starts sliding, and _oh_, this is very much like his own Naked TARDIS Plan number 8 (not the TARDIS being naked, obviously, but him and Rose being oh so naked _in_ the TARDIS).

He tries not to think about it too much, tries to concentrate on calculating the best angles for directing the sonic screwdriver for maximum effect.

Unfortunately, this only leads to calculations of best angles for something quite different, and out of the corner of his eye, he distracts himself by noticing the intruder engrossed in staring at some sort of computer monitor

Rose squirms awkwardly against the Doctor, her arms inconveniently positioned for such a task, and her mind traitorously one-tracked.

She somehow manages to coax the sonic screwdriver out of his pocket, and as she straightened up, the Doctor suppresses his need to groan out loud, by clamping his teeth adjacent to where Rose so sinfully holds the column in her mouth.

"I'll do the directing," he says, surprisingly intelligibly for having his mouth otherwise occupied, "if you can just… twist it."

"Aaa-cooorrr- wii or cooorrr wii?"

He considers this for a moment. "Anticlockwise," then adds, as an afterthought. "As soon as it starts pulsing, you'll need to swallow."

She wonders whether he's talking in a low rumbling voice that vibrates over her sensitive skin so deliciously on purpose. She also wonders whether he realises that his escape plan is just one long, drawn out innuendo, but decides that she doesn't really care, not when she twists and swallows as directed.

The swallowing reduces the shock of the sudden change in pressure from the sonic pulse and the forcefield shattering around them, and the shackles on their wrists, evidently governed by the same force, fall with a clatter to the floor.

There's a slow motion moment, where she's not able to yet convince herself that they are really free, until the Doctor's hand finds hers, and with a look daring her to disagree, he whispers, conspiratorily to her, dropping his screwdriver into his pocket with his free hand.

"Rose Tyler, I do believe you have a follow up plan."

The shouts behind them, and the ear-splitting siren that has begun to sound barely register in her periphery.

"_Run_."

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><p>They're running, they're always running, but they've never really ran with such potent urgency before, and the Doctor thinks, fleetingly, that he may be shaving seconds off their escape with the knowledge that nakedness in the TARDIS awaits them.<p>

He's pretty sure that's the least important advantage, and he's gripping her hand even tighter and already picturing various scenarios to play out. All of which involve a lot more than just a victory/escape/saved the world _hug_.

Hugging, he decides, is decidedly overrated, when he is in possession of a body that is designed fundamentally with the architecture of a human being, and which has such a potent hunger for his beautiful human companion.

(It's really just a simple formula, with one, rather favourable, outcome).

… a beautiful human who decides to interrupt his (decidedly magnificent) plan to grab her face and kiss her hard, pressing two fingers across his lips and sliding out from where he has her caged against the inside of the door of the TARDIS.

Oh no _no_. This is not how it works.

Well, not that he has any authority over how… how _it_ works, but… well… he's seen pictures.

He pointedly takes off his jacket and shoes, dropping them purposefully onto the floor.

He thinks about what she said earlier.

"Are you aroused?" he asks, casually, then when she makes a face, hurriedly explains, "I can't lick you from _all the way over here_."

She doesn't seem to pick up on his hint, just raises her eyebrows, and he's busy trying to think of ways he can re-establish the situation he has somehow been removed from, aspects of which involve more being tied up together.

He's pretty sure if he gets them arrested on Thafeeeein, they can be tied up together and he can try and follow through more successfully.

"_Doctor,"_ Rose repeats, loudly.

He turns to her, his 'not now Rose, I'm trying to think of another planet to take you to that will ultimately lead smoothly and subtly to seduction' face in place, which is rapidly forgotten as he casts his eyes over her decidedly _naked_ form.

He breathes.

Oh she's _perfect. _No, she's… _better _than perfect, and he's suddenly incapable of doing anything remotely intelligent, except stand there and stare at her, jaw slack and eyes burning.

(He defends his position as a being of highest intelligence, in that no Time Lord before him has ever been faced with Rose Tyler. Naked).

He swallows scratchily, and she huffs slightly, but with an edge of gratitude to his reaction.

He's still barely able to move, when she approaches him slowly, her hips swinging, and she takes his hands, which are uselessly hanging at his sides, and places them gently on her waist.

"I…er… _wow_… I … _soft_."

He peters off into a helpless murmuring of her name, pressing it against her lips and she melts against him because _finally_, it's just them and there's no aliens watching.

His kisses deepen, she loses track of her thoughts, track of time (even if it is relative), and cares about nothing more than the fact that _forever_ is looking to include far fewer cold showers and batteries, and much more of _this._

Her fingers work at his shirt buttons, and she wants to tell him how long she has wanted this, but she's not even sure. Maybe she's always wanted this, and not just since she's met him.

He's emboldened, by her light touches across his chest and arms as she tugs his shirt off. He's emboldened by her fervent return of his kisses, of her tongue battling hers.

She can't put into words how he tastes, it's dominated by just the feelings, of Time and Forever and No Longer Alone, and their lips give and take in flawless canon.

He steps back, fingers outstretched to her, hair in ridiculous dishevelment and barely dressed. She takes his hand, beaming at him, all red lips and teeth he's counted with his tongue.

And just why haven't they been doing this since the first time they had the excuse of being captives?

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><p>Please review :)<p> 


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